


Steps

by dragonofdispair



Series: Roads [3]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-01
Updated: 2008-05-01
Packaged: 2018-02-26 18:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2661551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofdispair/pseuds/dragonofdispair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorponok makes a decision. Blackout accepts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> note: this takes place two or three thousand years pre-movie

He knew -- exactly -- when it happened.

It hurt. But after the initial ripping-tearing-shock, it was a phantom pain -- no longer putting stress on his systems. A phantom pain... and unlike a physical one, he couldn't just turn off the relevant damage sensors until repairs were completed.

He didn't tell anyone. Couldn't in fact, but wouldn't have even if he could. As long as no one knew, he had time -- time he needed.

He'd known this would be coming -- Kickback had been reckless, but he'd been the best choice at the time. He wasn't ever going to choose someone reckless ever again if he could help it. He was an assassin, not a front liner and recklessness like Kickback's had grated against that programming, overridden only by the command link. Vindictively, he hoped that Kickback's teammates had died with the Decepticon on their mission.

No. This time he had the time. This time he had options. He may have appreciated Kickback's humor, but it wasn't worth his impulsiveness in battle. Or his temper out of it.

He still wanted a flier though. Not a seeker. Seekers were uniformly flashy, arrogant, and easily provoked. He only take a seeker if it was the absolute last mech in the the universe. Preferably not even then. No, he wanted a cyclo-craft or a space shuttle. Maybe a triple changer, but there weren't many of those and the only one with this fleet was only a bit more suitable than a seeker.

(Wistfully he though of a particular Autobot spy and assassin he'd observed infiltrating a Decepticon base once. That one had been almost perfect -- quiet, cautious, ruthless. Enough of a vicious sense of humor to set up a prank on his way out and confident enough to sign his designation to it. That would have been worth being bound to a ground-bound minibot.)

Discretely, he went through the fleet's service records looking for a shuttle or a cyclo-craft that was suitable. There weren't many results. Recklessness -- bordering on insanity, in Cyclonus's case -- seemed to be hard-wired into most cyclo-craft. Space shuttles were better in general -- having the calm and patience to endure lone space missions, but they didn't seem to have any sense of humor either.

After Kickback though, he would have gladly traded calm and patience for humor -- but most of the fleet's shuttle-'formers were on long range reconnaissance or patrols and wouldn't return until well after the news of Kickback's death had disseminated and he was well out of time.

The consequences of running out of time made waiting for those not even worth considering.

Finally the ship's computer yielded up the names of three suitable mechs: Vortex, Blackout, Blast Off.

Vortex's records indicated he was a melee fighter and interrogator. Probably his team's unofficial medic, not that that mattered. But being an interrogator meant he was probably intelligent, which did matter.

Blast Off was a long range scout and a sniper. His team's communication's officer, too. The same team as Vortex, which was why he wasn't on a reconnaissance mission -- the Combaticon team was more valuable all together than any information Blast Off could have gathered away from the fleet.

And all the Combaticons were stationed on the same ship as he was, making them easy to observe.

He very quickly decided he'd prefer Cyclonus -- maybe even a seeker -- to Vortex. The Combaticon cyclo-craft was cruel. This was to be expected in regards to prisoners -- Autobot and otherwise -- he was an interrogator after all. Expected to some degree in Decepticons in general. But Vortex was a torturer and didn't seem to care who or what was under his laser-scalpel. He didn't want to spend his existence hiding from a sadistic quasi-medic.

Blast Off was better. Infinitely better -- he was everything his record implied. But he was a Combaticon -- which meant being in close proximity to Vortex. More is also meant the team would rise and fall in the Decepticon ranks as a unit, always with Onslaught as the leader. He hadn't realized it when he'd pulled the computer records, but serving Blast Off (or Vortex, but that wasn't an option anymore) would be the same as serving Onslaught, except he still wanted a flier and Onslaught wasn't that.

Blast Off was still an option, but not unless Blackout was a worse choice than Cyclonus. In fact if Blackout was worse than Cyclonus, he'd probably go to Cyclonus. He knew Cyclonus -- that particular cyclo-craft was insanely reckless and not very intelligent, but he wasn't abusive and couldn't be worse than Kickback. And he'd rather have Kickback back than be attached to the Combaticons.

Blackout was on a different ship though. Sneaking from one to the other took a bit of time -- time he was very quickly running out of. Bombshell and Shrapnel, he decided, must have died on their mission with Kickback. Otherwise they would have gotten word to the fleet of Kickback's death by now.

Moving around on this ship was harder too. On the other ship, he was a fixture. He'd belonged there. On this ship, if he was seen, all but the most stupid Decepticons would figure out why he was there. Then it wouldn't matter that the fleet hadn't gotten word of Kickback's death yet. So he stuck to the shadows and the crawlspaces. There were other drones in the crawlspaces and they knew why he was there, but the drones all had an understanding about this. They wouldn't mention him, not unless their masters asked directly. Which they wouldn't, not unless he was seen by the Decepticons first.

He found Blackout in the ship's cantina. Immediately he decided the cyclo-craft 'former wasn't unpleasant to look at. The big black mech matched his own aesthetic preference -- his rotors sweeping behind him like the wings of some organic arthropods. Not that aesthetics were a good basis for a decision, but that plus his service record put him above Cyclonus -- assuming there wasn't some personality flaw that detracted from his suitability.

Just as he's settled in to wait and watch, a Decepticon with some sort of heavy hauler alt form stormed into the cantina. The newcomer was furious and easily one of the bigger Decepticons in the room. Taunts and catcalls rang out from the other mechs in the room, which were ignored by their fuming target as he headed toward Blackout like a homing missile.

"What's wrong 'Haul? Didn't like my gift?"

"'Haul's" answer was to plow into Blackout, sending them both into the nearest table, spilling several cubes of high grade. Blackout managed some sort of twist-throw that sent the truck 'former flying despite being heavier than his opponent. Both combatants got to their feet and deployed weapons -- Blackout's was a mace that looked like it was formed from a secondary set of rotors for his alt-form. And the fight was on.

He shamelessly eavesdropped on the other mechs in the room and was pleased to note that most of the betting was in Blackout's favor. He was even more pleased when a Decepticon was able to recount the prank Blackout had apparently played on the heavy hauler.

Blackout, he decided, was almost perfect. Time to find out where he recharged.

  
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	2. Steps, redux

Despite the dents and tears in his armor from the fight with Longhaul, Blackout was still laughing somewhat drunkenly -- though there hadn't been enough high grade to get drunk on, not after it had gotten spilled at the beginning of the fight -- when he returned to his quarters. Disgustingly arrogant seeker he might be, but Skywarp had some good ideas, and was just stupid enough be convinced to use his teleportation to help Blackout set the traps. Too bad he wasn't stupid enough to leave evidence of himself behind -- though after a vorn of targeting the Constructicons, they probably wouldn't believe anyone but Blackout was behind the prank even if Skywarp got himself caught red-handed.

He locked the door. Then engaged several extra layers of security that were definitely non-regulation. Even if several other of the Constructicons thought the prank itself funny -- Mixmaster and Scavenger -- and might head off further retaliation because of it, Blackout had injured Longhaul in the ensuing fight. Which meant Blackout seriously needed to guard his quarters. Including using the technically illegal alarm system webbing the walls, ceiling and floor with wires, considering Mixmaster's love for acids. That had been expensive to set up.

Ah, well, such were the dangers of messing with the ship's resident gestalt. Nothing new, and nothing that would keep him from pulling something else in a few orns. Maybe next time he'd target Hook. That would be funny.

Rather settling on the recharge plate -- the first thing an enemy would target if he broke into someone's quarters, and as such Blackout never used the thing -- he carefully, because of his rotors, leaned against the most secure wall with a storage crate hiding him from view from the door. The comfort of the heated plate wasn't worth being a target. His self-satified mood followed him into recharge.

Vibration hitting his rotors brought him out of recharge much later. Instantly alert -- he was expecting retaliation from the Constructicons  after all -- he didn't switch on his optics less the glow give his position away in the dark and scanned the room for a possible source. It wasn't in his nature to shoot before he knew what he was shooting at -- at least not until something shot him first. 

Something was there on top of his recharge plate, another Decepticon, and it was the source of the steady vibrations. Sonar pulses, not just movement. But shielding kept him from getting anything else from the scanners.

Krrrrr-click!

A deliberate sound. Blackout wasn't sure what to make of it. 

Breems went by and no attack materialized. Cautiously Blackout onlined his optics. 

Something small with four red optics crouched on the plate, staring at him. A drone. One that had gotten into his quarters without tripping any of the non-standard alarms that had been set -- an assassin. Weapons whirred to life. 

Still the drone did nothing but flicker its optics in pairs. 

Which was why Blackout didn't shoot. Forget messing with the Constructicons, he'd be in deep slag if he shot a drone. And since he didn't recognize it, there was a possibility it was a cassette. At least if he waited until the thing attacked him, he could claim self-defense. It wouldn't help him against the drone's master, but then the rest of the ship's crew wouldn't help hunt him down.

Suddenly he was tired of not being able to see the thing properly and ordered, "Lights, twenty percent."

Low lighting filled the space and the drone squeaked.

It was an arthropod shaped creature drone.

Krrrr-click!

This time the sound was accompanied by the ping of a new program hitting his communications system. Blackout unintentionally brightened his optics in surprise. 

Cautiously he opened the transmitted program. Then grinned maliciously. If nothing else this was going to make pranking the Constructicons that much more fun. 

"Wake me if anyone tries to get in here." Blackout paid attention to the way his command resonated down the newly created link. It was a heady sensation, addictive, better than overcharging on good high grade or getting away with a good prank, the feeling of power over this creature.

_Yes, Master._

 

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End file.
